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Alien vs. Alien

Page 2

by Gini Koch


  I heaved a sigh. “Richard, could you please explain to your sister why this isn’t quite the social call we’d like?”

  “I live to serve. However, I’m sure all of us are more than capable of dealing with the senator. You excel at the diplomatic touch, after all.” White trailed after Lucinda.

  I managed not to snort. I excelled at certain forms of diplomacy. If it came to dealing with interstellar invaders, I was the go-to girl. When it came to regular politics, however, I was still whiffing a lot more than scoring.

  “Great.” I appealed to Alfred. “Any way we can pretend to have a big fire or something?”

  He laughed. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. But I’m sure you’re worried for nothing.” Alfred and Jeff really proved the adage “like father, like son” to be true, from their looks and body build right down to their expressions. I was getting the “you’re cute, so I don’t mind indulging your little whims” look. It was a nice look, but it didn’t say “I’m ready to play dangerous word games with the nasty man.” And it made me miss Jeff even more than I already did, which did nothing to improve my mood.

  Amy snorted. “Right. I stopped thinking Kitty was worried about nothing four and a half months ago.”

  “Senator Armstrong tried to kill Kitty six weeks ago,” Len supplied.

  Honesty forced me to correct him. “No, actually, as far as anyone’s determined, he was trying to get us into the Cabal of Evil, and was likely deeply in the know about the Paraguayan supersoldier project, but he was not, in fact, one of the people trying to do me in. That was Antony Marling and his bizarre android offspring, and Madeline Cartwright. Now all extremely deceased.”

  “Armstrong wasn’t involved that we know of,” Amy countered.

  “Per Chuckie and Mom both, they haven’t been able to pin anything on him. And believe me, they want to.” Cy wve me

  Charles Reynolds had been my best guy friend since we were both thirteen, and he was also a self-made multimillionaire, several times over. However, like my parents, he’d been leading a double life I found out about after I discovered aliens lived on Earth.

  Chuckie was the head of the C.I.A.’s Extra-Terrestrial Division, so my husband and his very extended family were Chuckie’s priority. His other priority was ensuring that those who were trying to destroy all the A-Cs on Earth were taken care of, in all the nasty ways the C.I.A. takes care of people and problems.

  “They haven’t pinned anything on that Esteban Cantu, either,” Amy said. “But per Chuck, he’s absolutely guilty.”

  Cantu was in the C.I.A., though not in the E-T division. He, like Armstrong, was clearly not on our side. He was also, as Chuckie put it, a slippery bastard, and he’d avoided being taken down for Operation Assassination.

  “I’m not up on where Cantu’s falling on Mom’s or Chuckie’s Most Wanted lists right now.”

  “Well, maybe we can find out before Senator Armstrong gets here,” Kyle suggested.

  “I don’t know if we have the time. Armstrong said he’d be here within thirty minutes. If I’m guessing right, that means we have more like ten.”

  Sure enough, the house intercom buzzed. “Excuse me, Mister Martini, but there’s a Senatorial limousine requesting entry,” the A-C in charge of the entry gate shared. “They say they have a meeting with the Ambassador.”

  “Let them in, thank you,” Alfred said. “Company will be here shortly, dear,” he called to Lucinda.

  The Martini complex was huge. It contained both the ginormous house Alfred and Lucinda lived in, an almost-as-big guesthouse, and servants’ quarters that would make most millionaires drool with envy. It also took a good five minutes to drive from the entry gate to the main house. Under these circumstances, that wasn’t a lot of time.

  “We really need to get anything remotely incriminating or telling hidden and out of the way.”

  Amy shot me a look that plainly said she thought I was crazy. I got that look a lot, from just about anybody and everybody these days. “Kitty, you’re acting like we’re running a meth lab or something. This senator knows about . . . everyone, right?”

  “Right.” He did. Armstrong was one of the people who had a very high security clearance, which included getting to know about the Alpha Centaurions who lived on Earth. But he wasn’t our friend in any way, shape, or form, and I didn’t want him finding some hidden weakness. “But still . . .”

  My phone chose this moment to ring. I checked. Not the senator, but indeed another number I’d become familiar with. “Hi, Malcolm, what’s up?”

  Malcolm Buchanan had been thankfully assigned by my mother to be my permanent watchdog. He’d saved my and Jamie’s lives at the end of Operation Assassination. And now, whither I went, so Buchanan went, too. While we were down here he was housed in the servants’ quarters.

  “You have company coming.”

  “Yes, we know. Not thrilled about Senator Armstrong’s arrival, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Well, get ready,” Buchanan said. “Because there’s a lot more than one person in the limo that’s just pulling up at your front door.”

  Yi

  CHAPTER 2

  “WE HAVE MORE THAN ONE COMING IN,” I shared as I slammed my phone closed. “How are we going to handle this?”

  “I’m getting the door,” Kyle said. He nodded to Len. “You’re backing me?”

  “Of course.”

  Len and Kyle had been on the USC football team when we’d met in Vegas right before my wedding. Len had been the quarterback and Kyle had been on the line. They’d both given up promising pro careers to work with the C.I.A.’s ET division. Therefore, in addition to being big, athletic guys, they both packed heat. Ostensibly Len was my driver and Kyle was my bodyguard, but neither was a fan of anyone who tried to kill me, in part because those people also tried to kill the boys at the same time.

  I contemplated allowing them to open the door with an impressive show of force. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea that such a cheerful greeting probably wasn’t included in the Diplomat’s Handbook.

  Jamie gurgled. She hadn’t seemed like she was in pain for the past couple of days, I felt outnumbered and unprepared, and I missed my husband more than I would have thought possible. I opened my phone again and dialed.

  “Hey, baby, I was just thinking about you. How’re my girls doing?” Jeff had to ask because he had to have such strong blocks up in his mind to protect him from our emotions. I really hoped it was time to take those blocks down.

  “I think Jamie’s fine. I’m stressed out of my mind. Jeff, are you in the middle of anything you can’t get away from?”

  “We’re just doing some Homeland Security paperwork with Reynolds.”

  “Great. Can you all get down here, right away? We’re about to have an impromptu visit from Senator Armstrong, and I don’t trust his motives at all.”

  “Neither do I. We’ll be there right away. You want Reynolds along?”

  “Please. I have no idea who else is coming, but Malcolm said he saw more than one person when he called to warn me.”

  Jeff grunted. “He’s not in the house is he?”

  “Spend needless jealousy on Malcolm when you’re here, okay?” I lowered my voice. “I miss you. Use the fast hyperspeed.”

  “Love you, baby. Be right there.”

  We hung up, I kissed Jamie’s head and handed her to Amy, then headed after the boys. Martini Manor was so huge it was easy to catch u Fontustp to them before they reached the main entryway. And just in time—I got to them as the front doorbell rang.

  “Boys, let’s remember that while we don’t like the senator, we aren’t allowed to act like we’re Al Pacino in Scarface.”

  Both boys shot me betrayed looks. Their expressions shared that, yet again, this kind of “fun” was not something they thought they’d signed up for when joining the exciting ranks of C.I.A. operatives.

  But they soldiered on. Kyle got the door, Len flanking him, just in cas
e Armstrong actually had a carload of mercenaries along for the ride. Of course, I wouldn’t have put it past him, or any of the rest of the Cabal of Evil.

  Amazingly enough, Armstrong was in the doorway, no gun or grenade in sight. He was carrying an expensive-looking attaché and, as always, had the Senior Senator from Wherever look going strong. Even though we were now in the Diplomatic Corps, I still didn’t pay a lot of attention to politics, but the thought occurred that Armstrong probably had his eye on the White House.

  This unsettling notion got pushed aside as Armstrong strode in. Armstrong wasn’t the issue—his companions were.

  Guy Gadoire followed Armstrong across the threshold, beaming. My mouth fell open. “My darling Missus Martini. You look radiant as always.” He raced over to me as I slammed my jaw shut.

  Gadoire was a lobbyist for the tobacco industry. He spoke in a fake French accent that made him sound like a less appealing Pepé Le Pew. He was also bisexual and had, along with his partner, Vance Beaumont, suggested I share a “bed of love” with them only a few weeks prior. Despite all this, somehow, he was not on my list of Potential Adultery Options.

  “Guy, what are you doing here?”

  “You are surprised to see me, my dove?” He grabbed the hand I hadn’t offered and kissed it. Based on his hand kissing alone, I never wanted this man’s lips near mine. Gadoire was the only man I’d ever met who could make kissing your hand seem completely charmless and unappealing.

  The boys stared at him. They’d heard about him, of course, but this was their first real introduction to Monsieur Love, as I called him in private.

  “Ahhh . . .” Gadoire tended to make me speechless, though not for the reasons he assumed.

  I heard footsteps behind me, and Gadoire’s eyes lit up. I looked over my shoulder to see Amy arriving. She didn’t have Jamie with her. I counted that in the win column.

  Gadoire let go of me and turned the “charm” on Amy. “And who is this lovely vision with you?”

  “I’m Amy Gaultier. Ah, White. Amy Gaultier-White.” Amy and Christopher had gotten married right before Jamie’s teeth arrived, and she still wasn’t used to being married, partially because she’d spent more time away from her husband than with him. But, as she said, that’s what you did when your best friends needed you.

  Amy made the mistake of offering her hand. Gadoire snatched it to his lips like he had to kiss hands or die.

  She gave me the “oh, my God, this is gross” look, but smiled sweetly Kmilp w at him when he straightened up. “Monsieur Gadoire, I’ve heard so much about you from Kitty.”

  Gadoire winked at me. “I’m sure you have.”

  I managed not to gag. “How’s Vance?” I hadn’t missed anyone from my Washington Wife class while in exile in Florida, but it was polite to ask about someone else’s spouse.

  “He’s well. Looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “Excuse me?”

  No sooner were those words out of my mouth than Vance Beaumont sauntered in. Vance was one of those perfectly put together people the rest of us privately hated. I wasn’t so private in my hatred, but that didn’t stop Vance from grabbing me and giving me a big hug.

  I managed not to go rigid or shove him away, but this wasn’t a typical greeting for the two of us. “Hi, Vance.”

  “Kitty . . . if there’s anything I can do, I just want you to know I’m here for you.”

  “Huh?”

  Vance put the Frowny Face of Concern on. I didn’t buy it for a New York Minute. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Talk about what?”

  Armstrong cleared his throat. “Guy and Vance are aware of the . . . situation I need to discuss with you, Ambassador.” He looked around. “Is there somewhere private we can go to talk?” He pointedly looked at Amy and the boys, and it was clear he didn’t want them along for whatever chat he had planned.

  “Whatever we need to talk about can be discussed with Amy, Len, and Kyle. They’re all part of our diplomatic mission.”

  Armstrong shook his head. “I believe you’d prefer to have this conversation in private, Ambassador. Very sure.”

  Yi

  CHAPTER 3

  SOMETHING ABOUT HIS TONE and expression made me want to pull my Glock. However, my purse was in the room Amy and I were sharing, and besides, if I didn’t want the boys to use extreme force, it was worse if I did.

  What I really wanted was backup. I’d called for it. So why wasn’t it here already? Surely they’d had enough time to get to a gate and over here by now.

  The gates were alien technology that resembled airport security metal detectors more than anything else. They allowed you to travel pretty much anywhere in moments. The main gate hub was in the Dome, out in New Mexico, but there were gates all over. The majority of gates were in restroom stalls of every airport in the world, even the tiny ones. For homes, however, if the bathroom wasn’t used, the basements were.

  So Jeff and whoever else he was bringing along should have zipped down to the Embassy’s basement, calibrated, stepped through that gate and out the gate in the basement of Martini Ma Nmilp nt, calibnor. By my count, they should have been here by the time Armstrong got through the door.

  But no, I was still backup-less. There was also no way I was having a three on one meeting with this portion of the Cabal of Evil. “I like to live on the edge, Senator. Why don’t you share your news?”

  Amy cleared her throat. “Why don’t we get out of the hallway?”

  I really wanted to get Armstrong’s info and get him back out the door, but I had to admit I wasn’t being gracious or diplomatic. “Good point, Ames.”

  Amy led us to a nearby study. This was Martini Manor—there was a nearby anything depending on your definition of “nearby.” In this case, it was only halfway down the hall.

  As with every other room in the house, the study was done in what I called Early American Expensive. The older generation of A-Cs were traditionalists to their cores, and they’d happily adopted Earth traditions the moment they arrived.

  It was also decorated in Modern Hunk, since Jeff, Christopher, and Chuckie were sitting in the lovely club chairs this room contained, looking for all the world as though they’d been here for hours.

  Jeff was big and broad, with dark, wavy hair, gorgeous light brown eyes, and a mouth that said “kiss me” even when he wasn’t speaking. He was built like everyone’s male ideal—broad shoulders, perfectly cut, rippling muscles, without being overdone like a bodybuilder. Sure, I couldn’t see all that right now, since he was dressed, but I’d spent the last month fantasizing about him, so I was essentially seeing him in my mind’s eye sitting there naked.

  It was a nice view, but I had to force myself to look away or jump his bones in front of everyone, and I knew without asking this wasn’t in the Good Diplomats Handbook.

  Christopher was a head shorter than his cousin, smaller all the way around, being lean and wiry, though he had the family rock-hard abs. His hair was straight and lighter brown than Jeff’s. Christopher resembled his late mother in almost everything, but he had his father’s nose, mouth, and green eyes flecked with blue. They really made them gorgeous on Alpha Four.

  Chuckie was handsome for a human, which these days was both a compliment and damning with faint praise when compared to an A-C. He was tall like Jeff but had a similar build to Christopher—sinewy and smooth. He usually moved languidly, but had the reflexes to make you think he could be part A-C. Dirty blond hair, with a bit of a wave in it, but only when it was a little longer than he normally wore it. Blue eyes that radiated intelligence—no matter where he went, Chuckie was always the smartest guy in the room.

  Speaking of his eyes, Chuckie’s caught mine, and he gave me a look I was familiar with—the “play it cool” look. Know a guy more than half of your life, you know when he wants you to act nonchalant.

  Amy was obviously in on the news, because she didn’t look at all surprised. Armstrong, Gadoire, and Vance, however, clearl
y hadn’t been expecting this kind of company. I chose not to wonder which one of the three men Guy and Vance would proposition first to share their “bed of love”—it would be a tough call either way. And for all I knew, Amy was going to get the next proposition. Vance was giving her an approving look, so I figured she was his type. I was Gado Se. y wire’s, apparently. I was lucky that way.

  Armstrong, unsurprisingly, rallied the quickest. “Ambassador Martini, how good to see you.”

  “Senator,” Jeff said with a nod. “I didn’t realize you were bringing along additional visitors.”

  Armstrong managed a weak Campaign Smile. “Well, you’ve got additional people too. Nice to see you, Mister White, Mister Reynolds.”

  Christopher gave Armstrong a cold nod. Chuckie smiled without any warmth. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting us, Senator. But it’s more social this way, isn’t it?”

  Armstrong shook his head. “I’m not here on a social call, in that sense. Ambassador,” he said to Jeff, “what I have to discuss affects you and Missus Martini. Are you sure you don’t want to ask your associates to wait outside? I have to stress that it’s a very private issue I need to discuss with you.”

  I always turned right back into Mrs. Martini any time Jeff was around. Supposedly I was the co-Head Diplomat, but no one seemed to buy that story, other than Jeff, who steadfastly insisted I was his equal.

  “If it’s so private, I have to ask why Guy and Vance are here,” I said, before Jeff could respond.

  “We’re here to help,” Gadoire said. Vance nodded. They looked serious and concerned, and a part of me wasn’t so sure it was an act.

  Amy and I looked at each other. “Help with what?” she asked.

  “Again, it’s a private matter for the Ambassadors,” Armstrong said. He gave Chuckie a long look. “Though Mister Reynolds might want to remain, as well.”

  “All of us,” Jeff said. “There’s no one here we need to hide anything from.”

 

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